


The Many Facets Of Keira 'Blondie' Metz

by JosivChrisma



Series: Path Of A Lone Wolf [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Female Friendship, Flirting, Friendship, Gen, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderbending, Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 13:07:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11692263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JosivChrisma/pseuds/JosivChrisma
Summary: Garlet the Witcheress finds herself in the war-trodden province of Velen, where she begins her search for Ciri. There she meets an unlikely ally, a sorceress by the name of Keira Metz and one she refers to as - 'Blondie'.





	The Many Facets Of Keira 'Blondie' Metz

**Author's Note:**

> Don't mind me, just gender-bending the fuck out of the fandom. 
> 
> Geralt of Rivia with a twist ;)
> 
> A fic that celebrates the friendship forged between a witcheress and a sorceress after enduring the worst together.

As instructed by Yennefer; Garlet began her search for Ciri in Velen. Known for it's war-ravaged appearance; dank swamps; dense forests and morbid landscapes. Once a thriving province of the continent; now a grim reminder of war and loss amongst those who still remained in it's grasps.

Garlet the witcheress found herself in a small village called Midcopse; one of the many gloomy villages in Velen. A dwelling for the oppressed and those less-fortunate - sufferers from the aftermath of the once raging war.

Word had spread amongst the villagers - a witch had settled in a nearby cottage. Garlet took an interest to this and found herself on the hunt for the so-called witch of Midcopse swamp.

The witcheress went about the village; people wary of her presence. Standing out in the crowd was something Garlet loathed the most. Her amber, slitted-pupil eyes; prominent scar slashed down the side of her face; long ashen hair and a pair of swords strapped to her back always drew unwanted attention.

A witcheress or witcher lingering about meant two things; monsters were in the area and death would follow close behind. Most of the villagers were polite while others gave her the eye and veered off in another direction. Not daring to make eye contact, fearful of what they might see inside them. If anything, the witcheress was harmless. The stigma of being a menace amongst society was something she had grown used to all these years.

While passing through the town, Garlet overheard a group of women discussing the whereabouts of the witch that had take up residence just outside of the village. The mentions of a pond and a long path sent her on her way at once. Even Roach sensed the desolation of such a place and was happy to be back on the beaten path, neighing as Garlet mounted her.

Along the way Garlet encountered a few nasty nekkers near an abandoned cart, her trusty silver sword with the help of Aard made for an easy fight. The path was straight-forward, and quiet after that. Not much to see apart from swamps, trees and the odd rodents.

Not long after Garlet then stumbled upon a cottage nestled amongst the edge of the forest, and a handful of villagers gathered before it. A familiar voice also caught her attention, one belonging to none other than, Keira Metz.

Dismounting her horse, Garlet made her presence known and stood there leaning against the cottage. Keira caught her eyes at once, but didn't acknowledge her at all. Peculiar, since her gaze lingered on her for a short time before returning to the desperate villagers and their pleas for help.

Garlet remembers her fondly; dainty; straw-blonde hair cut to her shoulders; fair skin; brunette eyebrows; hazel eyes; pretty smile. She also remembers the moment the sorceress landed on top of her while in Thenadd Island - their very first encounter. An unusual way to meet, but it made for good conversation thereafter.

Keira still looked the same; still sounded the same too; that voice; the manner in which she spoke. Sounding and looking so out of place. Knowing Keira; Midcopse was a far cry from what she was accustomed too. Preferring royal courts and a life of luxury over anything. So seeing her here, amongst putrid swamps and dreary woodlands came as a surprise to Garlet.

She wore a deep red and blue dress; with gold embroidery; tassels at her waist; red leather brace and a trio of beads around her neck. Funny thing was, Garlet noticed she wasn't wearing any shoes. Bizzare, considering the sorceress wasn't fond of dirt and the outdoors.

Keira dismissed the villagers who seemed more content than before. Huffing the moment they turned their backs. Even after their departure, Keira paid no notice to Garlet's lingering and made her way back into the cottage.

Garlet doesn't remember there ever being any animosity between them since their last encounter. Remembering the fact she had her in fits of laughter not long after Keira fell in her lap, then proceeded to slay the sorcerer who threw the sorceress out of the window in the first place.

Keira's strange behavior triggered Garlet's senses as they honed in on the cottage. She stepped inside, the strong scent of herbs and oils filled her nostrils, almost over-powering in a calming way.

"Keira? Did I scare you off or something?" Garlet spoke as not to sound too alarming. No answer.

Her witcheress senses kicked in as she scanned the inside of the cottage for anything interesting. Keira had personalised the place like no ones business. There were various oils; tomes; alchemy ingredients; neatly organised in wooden crates and lining the walls. She found a room with various expensively tailored clothing. It seemed Keira had her luxuries in tow no matter where she found herself. Garlet also stumbled upon chalk markings on the wooden floor and lit candles all over the place.

One thing that catches her keen eyes is a skull adorned with in-decipherable symbols; glowing; almost yearning for contact. She regrets it when she finally touches the damned thing. A teleport appears, a dark, swirling mass outlined by what looked like burning embers from a fire. Usually one to shy away from such things, Garlet hesitated before blurting out a string of profanities while she stepped into the portal.

Teleportation is something Garlet loathes, the sensation of it always rattled her bones and left her feeling slightly dis-orientated. Almost like being inside a vacuum with the life being squeezed out of her. Although it never goes as far as killing its occupants.

She still thinks it's a shit way to travel despite it being the most convenient and the most efficient option, mainly for mages. Even still, Roach was always her first option and portals were a last resort, without a fail.

Garlet finds herself in an unusual place; too serene to be anywhere in Velen. She reaches for a flaming torch and takes a few more weary steps forward.

"Keira? What the hell?!-" Garlet yells, slightly distressed, her stomach still lurching from traveling through the portal.

The trees look more alive here; lush and green. Does and deer are grazing through the long grass, crickets are stridulating, while birds chirp songs that are much too sweet for the ears of a witcheress.

Even in the dark, the place looks beautiful. She even spots a pair of rabbits mating nearby, along with a bunch of them hopping about the place. In the middle of this stands a structure illuminated by a glowing light, something that resembles a rotunda. It almost looks romantic, too darn good to be true.

There's a path, there always is and Garlet follows it curiously. She walks a few steps, passing the oblivious, mating rabbits. It's childish but she chuckles to herself, they don't seem bothered at her presence. Then a familiar voice calls from the glowing, neatly -lit rotunda.

"Took you long enough to find me. I was starting to think you had lost your touch, witcheress."

Garlet follows her voice, there's a sly-ness to it, a playful lilt with a hint of attitude. A short descent up some steps; rounding a corner and she's met with the conniving face of a naked Keira Metz seated inside a large tub.

"Keira 'Blondie' Metz," Garlet says while looking into her hazel eyes. Better to look there than anywhere else, knowing well this was a private moment, although Keira didn't seem to mind the company.

"So we meet again, Garletta. I'm sorry I left in such a rush. Stepping outside of that cottage gave me a sudden urge to bathe." Keira lied while smirking coyly at the witcheress.

Keira was one of the few who used Garlet's full name. Deciding for herself that 'Garletta of Rivia' flowed better. Not that the witcheress' cared, it was just strange to hear it coming from someone else's mouth. The last time she heard her full name was when it rolled off Yennefer's tongue after she swore at her back in Visima. The raven-haired sorceress often used it when she was upset with her, which seemed to account for most of their time together.

Funnily enough Garlet was the only one who could get away with calling Keira, 'Blondie'.

"I figured as much. Fancy seeing you here in Velen, in the shittiest part of it too. Suits you like the color yellow against your complexion."

Keira throws her head back as a small laugh escapes her lips. The sorceress eyes her up with a careful, searing gaze, while she bathes herself with fragranced water. "You always knew how to make me laugh. Even when I'm trying my hardest not to."

Garlet doesn't really know what to say, especially seeing Keira from this angle - naked from the waist up. She doesn't mean to stare but it's almost too unavoidable now that Keira is making it extremely difficult by pouring more water across her bare chest. Emphasising every movement with her petite fingers. She even goes as far as arching her back while she skims over her pert breasts, leaving no part of her untouched. Even her skin glistens with a pearly sheen.

"You know, I would usually detest to being gawked at, but the manner of how you're going about it makes it difficult to object."

Garlet clears her throat abruptly and focuses on her eyes again. "Fuck, apologies. I'll let you have your privacy," the witcheress implies, turning her back to Keira.

She knew this was all show and tell on the sorceress' behalf. Keira had always been a little loose around the edges. The late Sabrina Glevissig even referred to her as a nymphomaniac at one point. Not that it mattered now. Nymph or not, it didn't make Keira less of a person.

"Your be-lated courtesy is noted, witcheress. Although it doesn't really count, now that you've already seen half of me."

Garlet smiles at her words. "Alright, fair point," she says in jest, almost turning back to Keira. The woman was just about to rise from the tub, when she notices Garlet's movements.

"You're still the most presumptuous witcheress of the continent, aren't you?" Keira states while making a twirling gesture with an index finger at Garlet, who's peering over her shoulder. She steps out of the bath and with a graceful wisp of her fingers, she appears fully-clothed again, accessories and all.

"Never-changing. Impressive magic trick, any way of teaching me that?" Garlet jokes. There in front of her stands a freshly-bathed and dry sorceress. Keira's small and petite but carries herself well. The beads around her neck dangle when she cranes her neck up to speak.

"Unfortunately not. I'm afraid you'll just have to make do with your menial signs." Keira says mockingly. The subtle kohl surrounding her cunning hazel eyes, makes their color pop.

"Yeah- I could burn my clothes off with igni or blow them off with aard. Unsure of how I'll make them re-appear though." Garlet watches the sorceress laugh at her stupidity. Her tongue worked wonders when it came to loosening up even the most tightly-wound individual. It seemed even Keira was susceptible to her charms and quick wit, although she came across irritated most of the time.

"That sounds like your idea of fun more than it is a disaster. How have you been, Garletta? It's been a while since we last crossed paths." Keira eyed her up again, this time quicker than before. Eyes finally settling on Garlet's long braid of hair dangling over her strong shoulders. "You haven't changed a bit. Apart from the fact you have more scars and you’ve grown out your hair. Still, a comely sight for sore eyes."

"You besotted, Blondie?" Keira arches a perfect eyebrow at her before she continues, which translated to an obvious 'yes'.

Garlet makes herself appear unfazed by Keira's flirtatious antics although deep down, she is slightly flattered. "You mean, since your path landed ass-first on mine back in Thanedd Island? Since then, I've been waiting for more sorceresses to rain from the sky." Garlet spots Keira's mole just above her left breast, one distinguishing mark she wouldn't forget, especially since the sorceress often wore garments that put everything on display for the world to see.

What is it with sorceresses and plunging necklines? Garlet thinks to herself.

"Hah!- Speaking of sorceresses, I take it you're still with Triss? Or is it Yennefer? I can never tell with you lot. Everything always works in triangles when it concerns the three of you."

Garlet scratches her head at this. Their was no comprehendible answer to such a question, especially after being separated from Triss for six months while Yennefer waltzed back into her life after being absent for two years. If she were being honest, her heart remained torn between the two sorceresses.

"Ahh- long story, don't want to bore you with the details. Though I'm interested in what you're doing here in Velen. Heard there was a witch about, didn't know it would turn out to be you." Garlet says, diverting the answer to the real topic of interest.

"Long story short, I've been in hiding. Witch hunters are at large now that Radovid flaunts his raw abhorrence for anyone associated with magic. It only made sense to settle within the backwaters of Velen, especially when both the North and South are crawling with mage-haters. So I holed myself up inside a dingy cottage, playing the part of the local witch, while I secretly cringed in disgust at the sight of dirt on my front porch." Keira takes a seat on a nearby bench and shudders at her own declaration.

"Better to live somewhere cringe-worthy than be on the end of a stake. You made a wise choice coming here, and by the looks of things, you already have a healthy fan-base to boot."

Keira shoots her a look after an honest but blunt statement. "Thanks for the grim reminder and yes, a fan-base who gathers on my doorstep at all times of the day and night- It never ends. Shouldn't complain though, better them then ruthless witch hunters. So, what brings you to me, witcheress?”

"I'm looking for a young woman, word is she ran into a bit of conflict with a certain witch. That, being you. Know anything about it?" Garlet leans herself against the railing and waits for a response from Keira.

"All I know is that the women around these parts tend to keep their distance from witches. Few choose to quarrel with a mage, especially those who are powerless against them. Who exactly are you searching for?”

"Ciri. She's in danger. The wild hunt's been on her heels for a while. Yennefer and I are searching for her. Velen being my initial location. I’m chasing up leads of possible sightings of an ashen-haired woman with emerald eyes. Need to find her before anyone else does."

Keira raises her eyebrows at this and ponders. "Cirilla? She would be hard to miss. Anyone would think she's your biological daughter especially since you both look so similar. Digressing, I do re-call someone asking about a woman matching her description. Could be a lead to her whereabouts.” This sparked an interest in Garlet; an eagerness for Keira to elaborate. "A masked elf approached me the other day, very polite, well-mannered and rather cryptic. He did give his location away, some elven ruins not far from here. Said I should lead Ciri to him if I ever encountered her."

"Well-shit! Mind telling me where these elven ruins are exactly, Blondie?"

"It depends, what will I get in return if I choose to help you? What can the infamous witcheress offer me?" Keira asks with a furl of her lightly glossed lips as she stands up from the bench, an obvious sway to her hips now that she's closing in on the witcheress.

"Umm...my utmost gratitude? A new pair of shoes? Both? I mean, what more do you want?" The witcheress replies, tensing instinctively when the petite woman reaches out to grasp her bicep straining under the leather of her witcher armor. The feel of slender fingers trailing over intricate chain mail, then a sigh of frustration when Keira realises her hints are being frowned upon at this moment.

"You drive a hard bargain, Garletta. Even after I welcomed you with a pleasing view and all. I suppose the stories I've heard of you are true - you know how to lure a girl in and spit her out just as abruptly." Keira states, retrieving her explorative fingers from the witcheress who's standing there slightly taken-aback. "But I'm fully aware this is about Ciri and I want to know that she's safe, so I'll take you to the elven ruins myself to begin your search."

"Damn really, Keira? After all this, you didn't stop to think that you were the one luring me in the first place? The scenery is more than substantial and if I wasn't on important business maybe, just maybe, I would've taken a closer look at the pleasant view." Garlet huffs in annoyance. "Forgive me for showing some fucking restraint here. Ciri is my number one priority, always will be until I find her."

"Calm down, witcheress. It's nice to know the view was appreciated and your restraint was for good reasons. Not many can turn down a half-naked sorceress, especially me. If anything, I'm impressed. Let's not linger shall we?" Keira implies, hazel eyes settling on the witcheress'.

"After you, Blondie." Garlet responds with a pursed half-a-smile. One that Keira finds herself secretly swooning over. After meeting the witcheress for the first time all those years ago, it was evident she felt drawn to her.

The memory of the ashen-haired witcheress with deathly amber eyes, the one who sliced the head off Artaud Terranova with deadly precision. If it wasn't for the ill-demised sorcerer and his decision to have Keira thrown out a window, then perhaps neither of them would have met under the circumstances. A mere memory she pushed back into the far reaches of her mind, until recently.

Garlet followed close behind Keira; took in the serenity of the place one last time before they return to the depressing surroundings of Midcopse. "Nice place you have here. Are we in some sort of underground den? Or is it another illusion? I can imagine it comes in handy when you need a dose of luxury from time to time."

"So many questions. You of all people should know, there are times when a woman should simply not explain herself. That goes doubly for sorceresses." Keira says matter-of-factly.

"Point taken. Sorry, prying is a bad habit of mine."

Keira shakes her head up at her. "At least it's gotten you this far, witcheress."

Now that Garlet has made another sudden re-appearance in her life, Keira finds herself wondering why people kicked up a fuss about the witcheress in the first place. Mainly those who were taken by her; mainly her Lodge sisters; Yennefer and Triss.

What was so special about her? Keira ponders. There's something there, a quality she can't quite place a slender finger on just yet. She leads them towards the active portal, knowing she'll soon find out for herself.

"Just so you know, Blondie. I don't just walk into active portals for just anyone." Garlet admits.

"I may just consider myself flattered but then again, I've heard your mouth is always full of honey. I sense you're going to be trouble."

"No shit. Trouble is my middle name." Garlet titters nervously before Keira latches her small hands around the witcheress' forearm.

"It's good to see you again, Garletta." Keira replies truthfully with a twinkle in her eye.

Keira yanks the reluctant witcheress towards the portal while Garlet expresses her distaste for them all over again - murmuring various cuss words. Her grip never loosens, and she finds herself chuckling openly at her companion's trepidation as their being whisked back to the cottage.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, be sure to read my up and coming chapters. 
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


End file.
